


Best Friends and Broken Hearts

by be11atrixthestrange



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Canon Compliant, F/M, Firewhiskey (Harry Potter), Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Missing Scene, Other, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Teen Angst, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:28:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26775148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/be11atrixthestrange/pseuds/be11atrixthestrange
Summary: H/HR Friendship. In an effort to distract themselves from their jealousy, Harry and Hermione get drunk in a blanket fort (as one does!). Set during HBP, canon-compliant. :)
Relationships: Dean Thomas/Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley
Comments: 12
Kudos: 67





	Best Friends and Broken Hearts

**Harry**

It was Friday night at Hogwarts, and in a perfect world, Harry would be sitting on his dormitory floor with Ron and his dorm-mates passing around an illicit flask of Firewhiskey, talking about life, playing games, and making plans for their next Hogsmeade weekend. Hermione might be there too, either turning a blind eye to the alcohol, or, depending on how the week went, forgetting about her prefect status and indulging herself as well. Ginny would stop in to liven up the conversation and steal some Firewhiskey. Ron and Hermione would protest— for different reasons and both without success, and Ginny would join the party.

In that perfect world, Ginny would sit down next to Harry and he would slip his arm around her shoulders. She'd turn her head to him and he'd plant a quick kiss on her lips. The kiss would be a familiar greeting and no heads would turn, not even Ron's.

Instead, Ron would lace his fingers through Hermione's and give her hand a squeeze. They'd share a look between them, nonverbally making plans to be alone later that night. Maybe they'd find an empty classroom, or even set up in Ron's four-poster bed, drawing the curtains and casting a muffliato charm.

After seeing the convenience it brought to her life and relationship with Ron, Hermione would approve of the charm, and by extension, the entirety of the Half Blood Prince's book. Harry wouldn't mind their relationship at all. In fact, he'd be thrilled for them. They would spend time alone when Harry was conveniently occupied with Ginny, and when all three of them were together, nothing would be different. They'd argue less, maybe steal a few kisses every now and then, or hold hands in the corridor. But they'd be subtle about their relationship, and Harry would never have to suffer through watching them shamelessly snog each other in public. They'd be confident and secure in their relationship, and Harry would never worry about being caught between them after a breakup or estrangement.

In this perfect world, Harry would also be a normal teenager. No dark wizard would be out to kill him. He'd look forward to a normal future. He'd still have his parents.

But, unfortunately, this was not a perfect world.

Harry felt the constant weight of his future and the tasks that lied before him— a long, impossible to-do list that separated his very imperfect life from that normal future. He felt the emptiness that his parents lives should occupy. And today, he also felt overwhelming loneliness.

He sat a table in the common room with his Transfiguration book open in front of him, next to an empty piece of parchment and un-inked quill. It was a Friday night in the common room, but neither Hermione, nor Ron were anywhere to be found. Neither was Ginny or his dorm-mates. He thought about taking his broom down to the pitch, but a few Slytherins had already claimed it. The next best thing was to get a head start on this Transfiguration essay.

His concentration was interrupted by someone barging into the Common room through the portrait hole. He heard some slurred laughter and two voices, followed by the telltale sounds of kissing. He looked up across the room expecting to see Ron and Lavender pawing at each other again, but his heart sank when he saw Ginny and Dean, who had made their way to an open armchair. Dean leaned back casually, and she was in his lap. They were face to face, arms entwined.

They looked a little sloppy, and Harry figured they had probably been drinking. He didn't think his presence was known. For a second he debated clearing his throat loudly, just to assure that things didn't go farther while he was in the room. But rather than interrupting them, he quietly packed up his books, and headed up the stairs to his dormitory, doing his best to ignore the heavy pit of jealousy in his stomach.

He opened the door to his room and nearly dropped his books. The room was empty, save for Ron and Lavender. They had clearly taken that fact for granted, neglecting to draw the curtains on his four-poster, or cast a silencing charm. They were on his bed, and down to their knickers. Lavender's hand snaked beneath Ron's pants, who moaned her name as she stroked him enthusiastically.

Harry felt that pit in his stomach grow heavier. Not that he had any feelings toward Lavender— he was just shocked at how quickly things had progressed between them. It was only a few weeks ago when Lavender had thrown herself at Ron and he experienced his first ever kiss. Honestly, Harry was just jealous of Ron for getting some action tonight, and jealous of Dean for getting some with Ginny.

Harry cleared his throat loudly, but they didn't hear him. _How awkward was this going to be?_ He couldn't just let them notice him or he'd look like a pervert. He had to alert them to his presence somehow.

"Draw your curtains, why don't you mate?"

Ron saw him first, then Lavender. She let go of Ron, shrieked, and made to cover herself up. Ron grabbed his pillow and shoved it over his pants. "Bloody hell Harry, how long have you been there?!"

Harry hastily made his way into the room to grab his cloak. "Too long, mate. Use muffliato next time as well, you share this room with four other blokes after all." Harry opened his bedside drawer and spotted his flask. _Well, it's Friday._ He picked it up and dropped it into his bag.

Ron didn't respond, just looked at him, mouth agape. Harry shoved his cloak into his bag— he didn't really know why he needed it, or where he was going, but needed to make it seem like he was in the room for a reason. Otherwise, he should have just left without interrupting them.

"Sorry Harry." Lavender's voice was soft and sheepish. He could tell she was embarrassed.

"S'okay." Harry was about to exit when he called back to Ron. "Have you seen Hermione anywhere? Do you know where she is?"

Ron took a second before responding. He almost looked guilty. Lavender whipped her head around to face him, also awaiting his answer. "Of course I haven't." Ron shiftily looked between Harry and Lavender. "Why would I have seen her?" said Ron— mostly to Lavender, as Harry let the door shut behind him and breezed down the stairs.

Harry felt a smile form on his face. If his unexpected entrance hadn't ruined the moment for them, the mention of Hermione definitely had.

* * *

**Hermione**

Hermione was sitting alone in an empty classroom. It was a Friday night, and on a perfect Friday night, she wouldn't be pretending to do her homework. She would be hanging out with Ron and Harry, maybe Ginny too. She'd be pretending to care about underage drinking, while stealing a few sips herself from the flask in the boys' dormitory. She'd be giving herself a night off after working hard all week, recharging so she could hit the books with full force starting the next day.

In that perfect world, even if she did find herself studying alone in an empty classroom, it would be because she was overwhelmed by work and she had no choice. She definitely wouldn't be staring at a half-finished essay and unsuccessfully holding back tears.

Instead, she'd be planning her date with Ron to Slughorn's Christmas party. Maybe she would get another bottle of Sleekeasy to tame her curls, or plan a shopping trip with Ginny to get new dress robes. Ron would have been just as excited to go with her and be making his own plans— just like he was for the week or so after she'd asked him. _What changed?_

If Ron and Harry were busy, she'd be with Ginny. She didn't mind Ginny dating Dean, but she spent all of her time with him. She'd hardly seen Ginny since they began their relationship, and she missed having a girl to talk to.

She'd be able to have a normal conversation with Lavender. She wouldn't overhear her and Parvati whispering to each other at night, talking about Ron. She wouldn't know how good of a kisser Ron was becoming. Well, maybe she would, but she'd have a primary source. She wouldn't have heard Lavender excitedly telling Parvati how much Ron loved her breasts, and what it felt like for him to touch them. She wouldn't have to hear about how Ron's fingers felt underneath her knickers. She wouldn't need to hear Lavender debate about whether it was too soon to have sex. She wouldn't know what her and Ron had been up to, because Ron wouldn't be with Lavender at all.

She'd be the one getting excited about all the new physical milestones. She might not have anyone to talk to about it— Ginny wouldn't want to hear about her brother— but she'd write about it in her diary.

That's what she'd be writing about right now, not Transfiguration. And there would be no tears threatening to escape and obscure her words.

Hermione forced the image of Ron and Lavender out of her head. She closed her eyes and felt her eyes sting with tears as they fell down her face.

She was in an empty classroom for two reasons. One was that the library was crowded, even on a Friday night— she wasn't the only bookworm at this school. She didn't want to be surrounded by people just in case she couldn't hold back her tears.

The second reason was not so innocent. She wanted to be in an empty classroom, because she knew that Ron and Lavender often found an empty classroom in which to snog. She didn't want to run into them, but she rather liked the idea of limiting his options. She also didn't mind the possibility of them walking in on her. She knew there was a part of Ron that felt guilty about hurting her. She may never understand why he did it, but she knew that deep down, Ron was a good and sympathetic person, and didn't truly mean to break her heart.

But he did break her heart, and if he were to walk in on her crying, she'd be embarrassed, but she'd also get to see that guilty look flash upon his face. Maybe Lavender would see it too. Maybe, just maybe, it would ruin the mood between them.

Hermione recalled another conversation she overheard in the girls dormitory, just a few days ago. Hermione was in bed, trying to sleep, when Lavender entered. Hermione had assumed she was going to talk to Parvati about Ron, so she drew her wand to cast a silencing spell so she wouldn't have to hear. But before she cast the spell, she heard Lavender sob as she climbed into Parvati's bed.

"What's wrong?" Parvati had asked. Hermione felt guilty about it— sort of— but she tuned in to listen anyway. Maybe they ended things…

"Ron. He was being so weird today," whispered Lavender. "We were snogging and—" Lavender sniffed, "I told him we should go snog in the library. I don't know, I've always wanted to do that, and I know he spends a lot of time in the library, so I figured he would too."

"Why the library? There's always so many people." Parvati seemed confused, but Hermione understood. Hermione had pictured herself snogging Ron in the library quite a few times before.

"It's just that… I Iike the idea of being seen with him. Is that crazy? We'd be quiet, and subtle, of course." Hermione had to resist the urge to scoff. "I guess I want him to show me off, like he's proud to be with me. I want him to not care about being seen with me."

"So why not snog in the common room, you two do enough of that already." Hermione thought Parvati sounded a little bit annoyed. She would be too if she had to deal with Lavender as a best friend.

"Yeah, but it's a little more… risky in the library, I guess." Lavender continued. "He said he didn't want to risk being seen."

"But… everyone has to watch you two in the common room and hallways, it doesn't seem like he cares about being seen." Yes, Parvati was definitely annoyed, and it made Hermione smile.

"That's just it— I pressed him about it, and found out it's because he doesn't want to be seen…. _by her_." Hermione could almost feel Parvati and Lavender look over at her bed during the silence. "He thinks I only wanted to snog in the library because she might be there… he thinks I'm trying to rub it in her face."

Silence. Hermione kept her breathing steady.

Parvati spoke next. "Well… is there any truth to that?" It was a tentative question, almost like Parvati was nervous to ask. Hermione expected Lavender to deny it.

"Not really, I guess I just want him to… not care if she sees."

"But he does."

"Yes. He does." Lavender sighed. "Why does he care?"

"Well they're friends, and she's obviously in love with him. He already hurt her by being with you, he just doesn't want to make it worse. He probably still cares about her and doesn't want to ruin their friendship."

Lavender was silent.

Parvati spoke up again. "I think that's pretty reasonable of him."

"No, it's not." Lavender almost sounded like she was hissing. "We had a row about it. I called him out on it. I told him that he can't hide our relationship in front of Hermione. She needs to get used to it and realize she'll never be with him. I told him he was way out of her league, and the sooner she realized it, the better off she'd be. I reminded him that I'm his girlfriend, and he should care more about my feelings than hers."

Parvati sighed. "How'd that go?"

"Not well."

"Elaborate."

Lavender sobbed. "He disagreed with me. He said I was being unfair, and that he had been friends with Hermione for years so I had no right to tell him he shouldn't care for her."

The conversation paused. "He has a point. It's too soon for—"

"Then he said I was wrong about him being out of Hermione's league," said Lavender, cutting her off. "He said he thought Hermione was attractive, and I was being jealous." Lavender's breath hitched. Hermione could tell she was trying not to cry. "Jealous of _her._ He's mad." She sighed. "He then said he didn't feel like snogging and wanted to go to bed, and to leave Hermione alone."

Lavender continued to cry. An extended silence from Parvati told Hermione that she had quietly agreed with Ron.

Hermione felt at peace— almost hopeful— as she drifted off to sleep.

She held onto that hope— especially the next day when she entered the common room late to find Ron and Lavender entwined on the couch. They broke apart and straightened themselves out when she passed. She was fresh out of tears and managed to keep a straight face when she caught Ron's eye and saw it— the flash of guilt. She hoped Lavender had seen it too.

Back in the classroom, Hermione was woken from her memory by the door opening abruptly.

* * *

**Harry**

Harry almost crashed right into Dean on the staircase on his way back toward the common room. Ginny was trailing behind him.

"Sorry mate!" Dean sounded so cheerful, completely oblivious to Harry's jealousy.

"Excuse me." Harry inched past them before whipping his head back up the stairs. "Um, I wouldn't go in there. It's _occupied._ "

Harry watched Ginny's eyes widen in realization before she muttered to Dean. "Gross. I don't need to see my brother shagging anyone."

"You and me both, Gin." Harry shot back over his shoulder. Harry was delighted at how normal his voice sounded as he continued into the common room, and out the portrait hole.

The pit in his stomach reappeared as he walked around the corridor. His mind went to Hermione. Poor Hermione. There was one person who would understand this feeling. He turned and headed for the first place he thought she might be— the library.

The library wasn't empty like Harry had mistakenly assumed it would be on a Friday night. _I guess Hermione isn't the only bookworm at Hogwarts._ He would have to look a little harder for her.

There was a spot by the far window where Hermione liked to sit. It had a great view of the Quidditch pitch and allowed Hermione to multitask if one of the matches fell on a busy homework day. He snaked his way through the bookcases until he found the spot— a cozy armchair in its own private nook.

It was occupied, but not by Hermione. Instead, a Ravenclaw couple sat there, arms around each other, faces together, kissing. Their heads snapped up as Harry approached. Harry recognized the boy as a seventh year from the Quidditch team. He sent Harry an apologetic smile. Harry returned it, turned on his heel, and walked away. _Well, she must have found another study spot._

Seeing the couple in the library reminded Harry of a conversation he had just a few days ago.

Ron had just stormed into the boys dormitory, alone. Harry was on his bed, surrounded by books, doing his best to tackle Snape's impossible homework. When he looked up at Ron's face, he could tell something was wrong.

"You're back early. What happened?"

Ron sighed as he fell onto his bed. "Row with Lavender." Ron hastily took off his trainers and began changing into his nightclothes.

"Makes sense, Hermione won't speak to you, so you need to row with someone."

Ron shot Harry a glare that told Harry it was the wrong thing to say.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to bring it up." Ron had been quite sensitive to any talk about Hermione since… well the canary incident. Harry turned his attention back to his books.

"How is she?" Ron's question was entirely unexpected.

Harry looked up. "Hermione?" Ron nodded. Harry recognized the look on Ron's face- a look of guilt that had been appearing more often since dating Lavender. "Um. She's been better. But she'll be ok." Ron kept looking at Harry. He wanted to talk about it. Reluctantly, Harry asked why.

"That's what we rowed about." Ron paused. "She wanted to snog in the library. I think she likes it when Hermione sees us."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You didn't, did you?"

"Snog in the library? No way. I don't want to get attacked by birds again."

Harry wasn't naive. He knew that wasn't the only reason.

"I'm sure Lavender understood that. She probably doesn't want you to get attacked by birds either. Why did it turn into a fight?"

Ron paused, taking a moment to recall the conversation. "She insulted her."

"Hermione?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah."

"What did she say?"

Ron took a deep breath before answering- Harry realized he was feeling more than just guilt- anger. "She insinuated that I should be snogging her in front of Hermione to make sure Hermione knows I'm not interested." He paused. "She said Hermione was ugly and needs to learn that she will never be with a man like me. Until she learns that, she'll never be happy." Ron's face reddened, and Harry could tell he was clenching his fists. He was really angry. "She tried to make it sound like I'd be doing her a favor by snogging in front of her."

Harry's eyes widened. "Wow. That's… incredibly mean."

"And not true."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Which part?"

Ron looked intently at Harry. "All of it. Which is what I told Lav. As you can imagine, it didn't go well."

Harry couldn't resist a small laugh. "Of course it didn't."

Ron laid back on his bed, and covered his eyes with his arm. He sighed. "Do you think I've ruined things with her?"

Harry paused for a few beats, before asking the question. "With Lavender? Or Hermione?"

Ron didn't answer, but he didn't need to.

That conversation had only happened a few days ago, and Harry had been wondering if he should tell Hermione about it. If only he could find her.

He had nearly searched the entire library when he realized she wasn't there. _Of course!_ Harry reached into his bag and withdrew the marauders map. Desperately scouring for her name, he landed on it. Hermione was in an empty classroom— the same one she had escaped to that night when Ron first snogged Lavender.

He exited the library and hurried his way toward his best friend.

* * *

**Hermione**

"Hey."

Hermione's head shot up at the word as she scanned the room around her, looking for the source of the voice. _Constant vigilance_. Moody's advice had been serving her well this year- though not for reasons he'd be proud of. Unless you could die from a broken heart, no one was trying to kill her, but she still wanted to avoid being caught crying in the corridors.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she located the source of the voice, Harry. He was closing the door to the empty classroom Hermione had chosen today and was heading toward her, a look of sympathetic concern on his face. He pulled out the chair next to her to sit down.

"I checked the library first, took me a while to find you this time." He offered her a friendly smile as he reached into his bag to withdraw his books. "How's the essay coming?"

Hermione rubbed her sleeves on her eyes and glanced down at her half-finished Transfiguration essay. Tear stains marked and smeared the ink leaving it hardly legible. _Not again._ "Um, I'm making some progress, but probably won't be much help if that's what you're here for." The sound of her own voice surprised her. It sounded weak, worn, exhausted— and she wasn't the only one who noticed. Harry looked at her with concern.

"Are you ok?" He shifted his gaze to her smudged essay. "Did you get it out of your system? Or do you need a second alone?"

Hermione felt the pressure of tears behind her eyes. How to answer— could she cry in front of Harry? To be honest, she didn't want to be alone, but she definitely had _not_ gotten anything out of her system. She wasn't sure if that would ever happen.

She resisted the tears and let out a sharp exhale. "No to both. I've had my fair share of time alone recently."

Harry nodded with understanding and turned his focus to his homework. "I'm here if you want to talk, you know. I know what it feels like."

With that, the tears burst forth. She cradled her head in one hand, covering her eyes with the other. _What was the point? He knows you're crying._ Harry's hand found its way to her shoulder and squeezed, confirming that yes, he knew she was crying, and he was ok with it.

The tears started streaming down her face, and Harry's gentle squeeze turned into a hug. She relaxed into his arms, and leaned her head against his shoulder. When her breath steadied, she broke away and looked up at him. "But how are you."

"Been better."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Ginny and Dean in the common room. Again."

Hermione smiled sympathetically. "And Ron in Lavender in the dorm?"

Harry stayed silent, intentionally confirming her suspicions.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know I'll hear all the details tonight, right?"

"It won't last, you know. Ron and Lavender."

Hermione stiffened. "Doesn't matter." Lavender might be fleeting, but her broken heart wasn't.

Harry and Hermione stayed silent for a while, both staring at their books and parchment. Harry spoke up eventually. "We're not going to get any homework done tonight."

"I know." There was no way Hermione could focus.

"Are you a prefect tonight?" Harry smiled.

Hermione laughed. "Harry, I'm always a prefect." But, the corners of her mouth turned up, indicating that she knew exactly what he meant.

Harry reached back into his bag, extracting his flask of Firewhiskey. "I guess you won't want any of this then." He popped it open and took a swig, then swallowed, sighed, and set the flask back on the table, so that it was within Hermione's reach.

She playfully scowled at him, before reaching for the flask, and taking a swig herself.

* * *

**Harry**

"So you never did this as a kid?" They were now sitting on the floor in the empty classroom, underneath a large canopy. After a few more shots of Firewhiskey, Hermione had insisted on moving all the desks so they could make a fort in the classroom. She transfigured the curtains into larger sheets to drape them over the tables and chairs.

"No, I never did this!" Harry didn't play any games as a child— he recalled how lackluster his upbringing was. "I was an only child, remember?"

"Me too, and this is how I entertained myself. I would make bookshelves out of the chairs and pretend I was in my very own library."

Harry laughed. "I'd expect nothing less." They fell into a brief, but comfortable silence. Harry took another gulp from his flask.

Hermione's tone turned serious. "What did you think when you first got your Hogwarts letter?"

Harry paused to remember his eleventh birthday, and how much effort the Dursleys had put into making sure he never saw his letter. He was unbelieving at first… then relieved. "I guess I was excited to find a place I truly belonged. At least that's what I was hoping for. What about you?"

Hermione was quiet at first. "Same. I was hoping I would belong. To be honest, I didn't feel that way at first though. I didn't know anything about the magical world and I still felt like an outsider. That's why I study so much."

There was a lot to learn his first year at Hogwarts. "I remember getting excited to go to Hogwarts so I could finally be normal."

Hermione laughed. "And then you found out you were a famous wizard destined to kill the darkest, most evil man that ever existed. So much for normal."

"Better than living with the Dursleys."

Hermione turned to face him. "But now, you're getting drunk in a blanket fort with your best friend, pining after a girl who's not your girlfriend. So, normal teenage behavior."

"Thanks for that." With the tasks ahead of Harry, it truly sounded ridiculous.

Hermione laid down, staring up at the sheets. "If we can't face our broken hearts, how are we going to face Voldemort?"

Harry had already faced Voldemort. Of course, the idea made him nervous. But the idea of admitting his feelings to Ginny paralleled that. _Why?_

"Hermione, we should tell them."

Hermione looked over at him. "Tell Ron and Ginny?"

Harry nodded.

She laughed. "No."

Harry looked over at her. "If I had told you I had spiked the Firewhiskey with Felix, what would you do right now?"

Hermione paused, wide-eyed. "You didn't, did you?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe."

Hermione reached for the flask again, and took a long swig. Then she laid down and looked back up at the ceiling. "Well, first, I'd say you were mad for wasting it on this." She shook her head. "So many better reasons."

Harry was feeling rather dizzy, so he laid down next to Hermione. "Ok but what would you do, besides telling me I'm mad."

She laughed. "You don't want to know."

"Yeah, I do, but spare me the details."

Turning on her side to face him she said "Well, if Ron and Lavender are still in the boys dorm, I'd walk right in. Ask him why he was with her, and if he was interested in me. And I'd give him an opportunity to choose. If you really did spike this, he'd choose me. If you didn't, I'd be pretty embarrassed." She was blushing.

"He'd choose you either way." Harry was confident in that fact.

"So would Ginny"

"No."

"Yes."

They paused.

Hermione glanced over at Harry. "I'll tell him if you tell her." She flashed him a mischievous smile.

"Absolutely not." He reached for his flask once again.

* * *

**Hermione**

With a few sloppy flicks of their wands, Harry and Hermione had more or less returned the classroom to its prior state, and were now hurrying back to the common room. They huddled together over Harry's map, so they could avoid any professors or prefects on duty. Their arms were linked in their effort to stay upright.

Hermione hadn't had this much to drink in… forever. She felt good. She felt like she could just waltz up to Ron and snog him. It was a great feeling.

"You didn't actually spike this. Did you?" At that moment, Hermione tripped on her cloak, and fell over, crashing into the marble floor.

"Shit!" said Harry. "Are you ok?"

"Owww."

He reached down for her and steadied her back on her feet. Confident she wasn't truly hurt, she let out a laugh. "Well, that answers that." Harry laughed, and they continued on their way.

Alas, she would not be snogging Ron tonight.

They made their way through the portrait hole, avoiding a disapproving glance from the Fat Lady, and entered the common room. They weren't alone.

Ron and Ginny were sitting by the fire. Hermione felt that familiar pang of anger, but was relieved to see that he wasn't with Lavender.

"Where are your lovers?" Harry asked loudly.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed.

Both Ginny and Ron narrowed their eyes at the pair.

Hermione collapsed on the couch, laughing. Harry reached into his bag, pulled out his flask and showed them. "Guess how much Hermione drank?" There was an excitement in his voice.

"Hermione Granger!" said Ginny's voice. "You're a prefect."

Then Ron spoke up. "Well it sounds like you both had fun tonight."

Hermione looked him in the eye, for the first time in forever. "Sure did." With that, she rose off the couch. "I'm going to bed. See you tomorrow. Goodnight Harry, Ginny.' She knew that leaving Ron's name out was petty, but petty was normal teenage behavior, after all.

If her world couldn't be perfect, at least it could be normal.

She resisted the urge to look back at Ron— she knew what expression he would be wearing.

Lavender was asleep in her bed when she arrived and Hermione followed suit, feeling grateful for her best friend, and normal teenage problems. Hurt and jealousy (and a hangover) would have to wait for tomorrow.


End file.
